


thrown apart, weaved together

by tarouhi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Plotbunnies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:27:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarouhi/pseuds/tarouhi
Summary: plot bunnies for various fandoms that may or may not grow into their own stories in the future





	1. BNHA x SDR2

**Author's Note:**

> =Unfinished=
> 
> Summary:
> 
> \- Izuku isn't as obsessed with quirks as he is in canon  
> \- He works at a convenience store as a part-time job  
> \- He meets the SDR2 cast one day  
> \- Chiaki, being the sweetie she is, notices Izuku's lack of friends and while being silent, visits him whenever she could. Pretty often, being almost every other day  
> \- (Prior to Despair Arc) Chiaki tells Izuku of his freedom of going where ever he wishes, not tied down by a single quirk. Retell of her line in DA

From a young age, Izuku was told that he was quirkless. The days blurred into each other, bleeding ink onto his empty pages. No, it wasn't that it bothered him, really. The whispers and mocks of others. Instead, he simply went on with his life. Call him a goody-two-shoes if you will, because Izuku didn't have the heart to reject any reasonable offer (when they even bothered to approach him in the first place, of course). 

So when he was kindly offered a part-time job by the manager of a convenience store, Izuku accepted whole-heartedly with the intention of keeping up with both school and his newly found activity. It gave him time to dwell in peace and fulfilled his need for social interaction as well. Some customers were only there to stir trouble and despite his ushering most would continue, but others were nice enough to spare him a headache. 

But as a singular Sunday approached the world, Izuku was tending to the shelves when he heard the bell ringing. Tilting his head for a moment, the freckled boy decided to glance towards the entrance. It was, after all, rather obnoxious in comparison to what would've happened if only one person arrived. Something clicks when his eyes are drawn towards a gathering of fifteen or sixteen people, all a little taller than himself and certainly eccentric in their clothing choice.

They were the students of a nearby, renown school: Hope's Peak Academy. Like everyone else, Izuku had the knowledge of the academy. Its existence, parts of the history and their strange ways of enrolling. It was mostly drilled into his head from lunch talks that he coincidentally eavesdropped at times.

"--it's all in the name of  _hope_ , really. What's there to lose?" Curious, although wary of the strange tone, Izuku pokes his head out and sees a blob of white hair standing distinctively a little further behind from the rest, dressed in a green jacket and all. A reluctant shiver traveled up his spine as he peers upon the expression on the way-too-pale complexion.

"Maybe  _you_ , dumbass! Pushing me to the fucking side to get almost knocked off your feet?" Another male, albeit shorter, with blonde hair and rosy cheeks snaps. Izuku didn't expect that but figured half-way through his thinking that he shouldn't judge. When a pair of stern, red eyes pierced into his own, Izuku scrambles and stumbles before heaving his shoulders up and down to retreat behind the shelves. Right, maybe he should take his own advice to not irk people with red eyes, glasses, a silver braid and a katana by their side to boot (He doesn't know what he did wrong this time, but still).

 


	2. HP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> =Unfinished=

" _Mr Potter!_ " 

Madam Pomfrey harshly pulls the potions into her arms from the frail-looking Boy Who Lived, eyes wavering in hesitance before her professionalism took over. Harry didn't dare to look, because he had been caught, of all the bloody things.

Draco Malfoy stood near the door, feet glued to the floor and not sure of when he's going in. Partly because of the intriguing scene before him (of which neither participant of said scene noticed him) and partly because he didn't know what to do when to interrupt. So he listened, cradling his more-than-fine arm in his other and pushing aside the buzzing lingering of discomfort.

".. I didn't-" 

"You didn't ravage my entire supply? Waltzing out of the office with potions of pain relievers stacked upon each other until it looked you were about to  _fall_?" Even from where he was, Draco could hear the displeasure of her voice and swallows. What had Potter needed to do with those, anyway? He didn't call for them excessively even during the first two years when he was encountered with much more unpleasant things than scratches and bruises.

"Sorry, ma'am." Harry simply stares ahead with his eyes and face blanking, though his apology seemed to be fitting enough for her to stop fussing over him and began to repeat the process to the potions as well, organizing them back into her shelves with a wave of her wand. Seeing as he wasn't going anywhere when Pomfrey's attention was turned back to him again after the previous task was sorted, Harry's posture straightens stiffly as if expecting to be scolded. 

"Children, honestly. Come back when you need medical attention and cease with your excessive paranoia!" Wisely, Harry chose to not respond to the small rant that seemed to be for herself than anyone else and moved towards the exit. His eyes glazed over and he dipped his head in small acknowledgment towards Draco, but otherwise said nothing and left. The latter blinked. He certainly was cautioned against a probable glare or insult and hadn't predicted the silent treatment. Though he couldn't fathom why, Draco decided to mull over it in his head later when he wasn't about to be bedridden. Exaggeration may be in place, but his injury certainly wasn't.

Again, Madam Pomfrey ushered him towards one of the beds while grumbling something beneath her breath, though he hadn't minded. The less attention he gets from the people who were easily annoyed, the better.

 

Summary:

\- Harry has knowledge of this AU's Dumbledore and his manipulations, therefore distancing himself from the golden trio  
\- Dumbledore confiscates Harry's Invisibility Cloak at the start of the year without any proper reason other than 'you wouldn't need to know, my boy'  
\- Set in the third year and Harry never takes Hagrid's class due to his distrust that he won't go flaunting about for a while  
\- As per usual, Draco riles up Buckbeak, is sent to the Hospital Wing, but finds Madam Pomfrey confronting Harry Potter instead.  
\- Harry was trying to steal pain reliever potions but was caught  
\- Draco's out of it so he doesn't think much about the situation  
\- Slowly, he starts paying closer attention to Harry and what he does  
\- Draco picks up on the weird trembles and fixed smiles  
\- Due to house prejudices, including his own, he couldn't very well go up in front of Harry and talk to him but left a note to meet him in the Astronomy Tower while knowing he could lose house points if he was caught  
\- Harry doesn't show up but takes him aside during a free period/both skipped on History  
\- Draco discreetly asks about it but Harry evades  
\- long story short plus im lazy, Harry has been passive-aggressively addicted to painkillers and such


	3. KHR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> =Unfinished=

Tsuna decided that he's had enough, that living with the support of a father he hasn't seen since his birth, that living with a hand wrapped around a neck that tightened every second was not worth it.

So he breathes, gathering oxygen (even though he's supposed to be dead, to be still) in his lungs, and carves letters across his abdomen. They tell a tale, but that's for another day.


	4. KHR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> =Unfinished=

Nothing's wrong with an extra burn or bruise.

He'll keep telling himself that because it's all he knows. With his body as another animate target, there were many hot spots that bullies flocked to, kicking aside his head and crushing his bones.

Their boredom will soon reign superior, leaving him alone. 

But even then, their boredom grew too big.

Tsuna's dull eyes couldn't register the match in front of him, but his nerves could recognize the pain that shot up with each lick of the flame. 

Then he screams despite himself.

 

 

 

He hears their whispers, tucked under masks of feigned ignorance and concern. It's all too easy because he just  _knows_. He knows when they shove him in the hallway and stick their feet out like he's blind. 

When will it end? Tsuna's own, broken mutterings had died out after a year.

It had been fifteen.

Settling in his half-broken chair in Math, Tsuna twirls the pen in his hands, earning glares he caught in his peripheral. With his sleeve rolled down from gravity, makeshift bandages exposed white beneath layers of rusty red. Already dried and stuck, he knew from previous experience. 

For the remainder of the discrete public humiliation, he kept his gaze downcast and his mouth shut, lethargicness bleeding into his thoughts and downgrading his ability to act. He may have thanked whoever was above the clouds once the bell for lunch rung, its sound a clear resonant within his mind. 

When he stood, his steps swayed. When he thought, his brow furrowed in frustration.

_Supported by the pillars and avoiding the masses, he makes his way up no matter how long it takes._

 


	5. HP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cycling through various rebirths isn't as easy as some make it out to be. Nearly perfectly obliviated of their memories of each other and a mere word or two later, both soulmates were dropped into another timeline, another life. Only when meeting face to face, no matter lacking parts of a soul or not, will they regain their mind.

"Fifty years."

A firm, promising tone laced within dull words made Harry spin around. His own shoulders tensed, locking in place before he recalled his wonderfully innate ability to breathe. With a smile that could not be described as anything but fond, the boy reaches for the other's cheek, tracing the cheekbone gently.

"It won't be long." Even he could taste his bitter hissing, but Harry shoves that aside to press his forehead against Tom's. Drawing his wand and tapping it against the male's chest, a whisper carried along by wind was locked in place by magic. Tom pursed his lips, but didn't say any more.

When the next words were spoken, it was in perfect unison but strained nonetheless. A white, searing pain tore into his skin and whizzed him away from the land of nothing. _"_

_Yours. / Mine."_

Harry did not have the chance to send him a last teasing gaze.


	6. HP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world spins and spits out a child with malnutrition and a burning hatred for Death in front of Wool's Orphanage. In all his newly acquired six-year-old body, Harry Potter was, very reluctantly, taken in.

Without glasses- not to mention being stuck in the middle of a _blizzard_ \- he was very much so blind.

Of course, the boy did what he could, shivering but nonetheless pressing himself against the walls of abandoned shops to navigate the area. Nearly knocked over by a strong gust of wind, he cursed with a ferocity that a normal five-year-old wouldn't have known or used.

"Death. Is it just so entertaining for you? Seeing me struggle?" A bitter laugh threatened to spill out of his lungs, but he knew he couldn't afford the extra ice cold breaths he'd no doubt take afterward.

No answer came, but that much was expected. The boy spread his tiny arms, a blank but slowly crumbling expression plastered on his porcelain-like face.

"What the _fuck_ were you thinking?" He lets out a hiss, bordering another language he very well knew. More than he'd like to.

"You're a wizard, Harry! You're The Boy Who Lived, Harry! _You can change the past, Harry!_ Damn my freedom, it seems I never had any in the first place!"

Pent up anger dissipated moment by moment, but to Harry, nothing felt more like an eternity. He refused to give in to the biting cold, one that only seemed to laugh and mock him by picking at his sensitive skin with fierceness.

He treads through piles of snow, the built-up mounds reaching his knees. Having walked for who knows how long without anything but trees in sight, a light in the distance caught his pale but still bright green eyes.

He couldn't think with the ice clouding his judgment.

Harry ran. Fast enough to reach out with his hands and scrape the edge of an orb.

 

Luck _really_ wasn't on his side, Harry decides. The familiar, unwelcomed feeling of a portkey shook his already traumatized body and made his stomach turn inside out. He wanted to brace for impact, but wasn't given any time and was abruptly thrown to the ground, leaving him a crumpled mess.

 

Once he was out of it, Harry cast wary glances around his new area. The ice in his mind had begun to thaw from the intoxicating heat, which, he found after a few looks here and there, radiated from a small fireplace that seemed too understocked, but he wasn't one to complain.

 

He might've barged into someone's- Harry looks upon the worn down planks beneath his bare feet and pulls the rags he had as clothes closer. The place reminded him too much of a cupboard, the size only being a bit larger than that- .. run-down room, but it wasn't his fault. Not entirely, at least.

 

Biting his lower lip thoughtfully, Harry brings his stiff hands into view, looking down on the redness.

 

Which, if he had to admit, didn't help much when he instinctively flinched when a closed door he noticed earlier was suddenly flung open by a rather.. unwelcoming figure. The other boy looked around the same age as his current body but preserved a cold look despite the temperature.

 

Cursing beneath his breath, Harry reached into his robes- then faltered as he remembered his wand was no longer with him. Already expecting an outburst or two of confusion and anger from the stranger, Harry curls into a ball in the corner and looks from behind his knees.

 

 

"How did you get in here?"

 

The former Boy Who Lived blinked in confusion, before cocking his head to the left to get a better look.

 

There was no anger, only mild confusion mixed in with amusement in those unsettling crimson eyes, slightly covered with black locks of hair. _Merlin,_ Harry's breath was caught in his throat, please _don't tell me-_

 

".. I don't know." He blurted before he could catch himself. A lie, of course, but he wasn't about to outright admit to knowing magic considering the age that he's _supposed_ to be at the moment.

 

"I woke up here."

 

Doubt flashed in those red orbs before it was quickly wiped away.

 

Had it been someone else, rather than a _baby Dark Lord,_ Harry would've found himself impressed.


End file.
